


A Moment Too Late

by SisAngel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Deathfic, Drabble, Feels, Heartbreaking, M/M, Post-Reichenback, Sad, oh my gosh why did i write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisAngel/pseuds/SisAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't make it back in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment Too Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tunes84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunes84/gifts).



> Oh gosh why did I write this? T_T
> 
> Gifted to tunes84 because she's evil and makes me feel all these feels and gah I just can't.

John opens the door and stops, feeling a deep twist of sadness in his chest as he looks around at the abandoned flat. It’s the first time he’s been in 221B in three years but it still feels like home despite the layer of dust that has settled over everything. He sneezes more than once as he makes his way over to the desk and sits his laptop down, opening it up as he takes a seat in front of it. Once it boots to life he pulls up his old blog, which had been abandoned the same time the flat had, and started a new post. With shaking hands, he begins to type his last blog post. He doesn’t fight the tears as they fall.

_Mrs. Hudson, I am so sorry for doing this to you. You have been more of a mother to me than my own. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for Sherlock. He and I both loved you very much. Please know that._

Sherlock slips the gun back into his coat pocket and pulls out his phone.

**It’s done.  
SH**

Not a second later, the phone beeps in his hand.

**Well done, brother dear. Now go home.**

Sherlock smirks and drops the phone back into his pocket as he walks out of the room, completely forgetting about the body on the floor behind him as he readjusts his scarf.

_Greg, I don’t blame you, so don’t blame yourself. For any of this. You were a good friend. And no matter what Sherlock said, you are a good detective._

Sherlock smirks as he hails a cab, thankful that his last target had been in London. It made the anticipation of seeing John again almost bearable. He climbs into the cab and utters the old address to the driver, and they’re off.

_Mike, thanks, mate. If it weren’t for you, I would have ended things a long time ago. Thanks to you, at least I had a taste of true happiness, even if it didn’t last long._

He’s climbing the stairs slowly, quietly, excitement twisting his stomach and his mouth into a smile. Just a few more steps and he’s home. Two more steps and he’ll be with John once again.

_Sherlock._

His phone beeps and he stops, pulling it out quickly. Mycroft had better have a good reason for interrupting his homecoming. His brows furrow as he pulls up a new email, alerting him to a new post on John’s blog.

_I’m coming._

His eyes scan the short page rapidly and immediately his phone is forgotten, slipping from his grasp and tumbling down the steps with a clatter as he reaches for the door knob.

“John!”

_I love you._

A shot is fired.


End file.
